


Pretty Boy Beg

by TheCookieOfDoom



Series: Prompt Fills [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Consensual, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 19:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10951278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCookieOfDoom/pseuds/TheCookieOfDoom
Summary: Jon needs men to fight off the walkers. Ramsay offers up a deal.





	Pretty Boy Beg

**Author's Note:**

> the blow job equivalent of hate-sex, featuring Jon 'I hate you so I'm going to give you the best blowjob of your life' Snow
> 
> for this prompt: The Bolton's have the North. Now Jon Snow must ask them for help against the White Walkers. Ramsay always did like to see a pretty boy beg.
> 
> I... I hope this is what you wanted. I read that and immediately thought of this, I'm so sorry if you wanted something of the non-smut variety (if so plz let me know and I can write something different, no problem!)

Sam handed Jon a paper, Jon signed it, Sam handed him the next one. The stack of parchment in front of them was steadily growing larger, while the one in Sam’s arms was steadily growing larger. As he signed off the papers, Jon barely noted the names. A few of them stuck out--lords he was familiar ones, or some he had never even heard of before--but overall, it went by in a blur. Just smudges of ink on paper that would either save or condemn the seven kingdoms. Then, Sam hesitated, looking as if he wouldn’t hand Jon the next paper. Dutifully he did, saying nothing. That in itself was enough to raise suspicion, and Jon realized why when he read the name of the lord. He thought the quill would break in his hand, tossed it aside to keep that from happening. 

“No, not him.” 

“I know,” Sam said, sympathy in his voice. “But you have to.” 

“We both know what he’ll say. There’s no point.” 

“We won’t know if we don’t try. I’m not saying he’ll suddenly turn altruistic and help, but he might care enough about his own life to send us men.” Still, Jon only stared at the paper before him, with hate in his eyes as if it had been the one to take his family from him. Sam put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “It is our sworn duty to defend the seven kingdoms from what we know to be out there. Winter is coming, Jon, and we must be willing to do whatever is necessary to keep it at bay. All of us.” 

Jon picked up the quill once more, his jaw stubbornly set, and signed off the parchment. Then tossed the feather aside and stood, leaving Sam to gather the papers and send them to the respective lords. 

His answer came within a fortnight. 

“Lord Bolton wants you to come to Winterfell to ask him in person.”

“You mean beg.”

“Well, it does say ‘ask’--” Sam silenced himself at the look Jon gave him, nodding. “Yes, he probably means beg. But he says that if you come to him, he’ll give you all the men you want… That. That rather sounds terrible, when said like that.” Another glare, another moment of silence. 

But Jon could hear what Sam was likely thinking as if the thoughts were his own: whatever’s necessary. With a tense sigh, he nodded his assent. 

“I’ll leave for Winterfell in the morning. You’ll serve as Lord Commander in my stead.”

Sam saw him off a first light, wishing him luck on his journey and sending him away with a warning to not kill anyone. Ramsay deserved death and worse for all that he’d done, but now was not the time to exact vengeance. As far as Jon was concerned, as Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, Ramsay Bolton was the Warden of the North, making him Jon’s dearest ally. It should have been his father, or his brother, or even one of his sisters. Even Lady Catelyn he would have preferred over the bastard of Bolton.

All through his several-days ride to Winterfell, he just kept repeating to himself ‘whatever is necessary’. This was about saving the seven kingdoms and pushing back the white walkers, not his pride. Ramsay’s time would come, but not before he handed over all the men he had to spare. 

Ramsay welcomed Jon as if he were an honored guest, mocking him with flowery words and praise, enough to make Highgarden look like a bush of shriveled, dried and dead roses. Jon took it with the same grace he took Ser Alliser’s insults; silenced by clenched teeth, hate burning in his eyes. Ramsay looked at him with delight in his own, more than pleased with himself. 

“Bastards can rise high in the world, apparently. Just look at us. Who would have thought only a handful of years ago that you and eye would be seeing each other like this. Me, Lord of Winterfell, the Dreadfort, and Warden of the north. You, the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, arguably the most honorable position in all of Westeros.” His tongue dripped with poison, his tongue laced with sarcasm. “Quite the pair we make. I believe we will be very good allies, you and I.” 

As if there could ever be something resembling an alliance between them. 

“Now, I believe you had something to ask of me.” Jon could only be grateful that Ramsay had decided to receive him in his chambers, for this part. He preferred his torture to be intimate, rather than put on like a show for an audience. And perhaps he had enough foresight to know that Jon still needed to retain a modicum of respect in his new position, although that was unlikely. Ramsay didn’t care about such things. 

“Will you lend the Night’s Watch any men to fight against the Night King’s army,” Jon said, through his teeth. It seemed he could not yet let go of his pride. 

Ramsay just tsked at him. “I do believe my terms were that you ask, and ask  _ nicely _ . Why don’t we try again, yes?” 

“Will you  _ please  _ lend us any men?” 

“Better, but not quite there yet. How about you get onto your knees for me?” Ramsay was grinning as if he expected Jon to refuse, and therefore be given the opportunity to refuse him. But Jon knew just what he was playing at, and so he walked forward until he was just in front of Ramsay, before dropping to his knees, reminding himself that he’d done worse for less. 

“My Lord,” Jon said, kneeling, his head bent low in what he hoped portrayed reverence, willing himself to at least pretend to sound cordial, though he knew he didn’t sound quite just as desperate as Ramsay wanted him. “Do you have any men to spare to come to our aid?” 

Jon thought perhaps Ramsay was considering it, would perhaps even agree, but he hopes were dashed when Ramsay tilted his head back up. He was grinning, almost maniacal, as he shook his head. 

“You don’t sound sincere enough,  _ bastard _ . But that’s alright, there are other ways to gain what you need.” Jon’s stomach dropped, knowing that whatever Ramsay offered would be far worse than being made to beg on his knees. “Since you can’t quite seem to convince me with your words, why don’t you try with your tongue, instead?”

“Fuck you,” Jon said immediately, without thinking. Ramsay looked even more pleased, leaning back on his hands on the bed. 

“If that’s how you feel, so be it. You’re free to go, without the two-thousand men you came here for.”

“Wait--”  _ Whatever’s necessary, whatever’s necessary, do it now, you can kill him later.  _ “ _ Fine _ .”

“Good boy, you’re smarter than you look. Get on with it, then.” 

Jon refused to look up at Ramsay as he unlaced his breeches to pull out his cock. Ramsay was hard at the thought of having Jon on his knees for him, willingly debasing himself even as it stung his pride to do so. 

“Do well and perhaps I’ll send you on your way with three thousand instead of two,” Ramsay said, stroking his fingers through Jon’s curls in a way that was something like affection, until he gripped those curls to pull harshly at his hair. Jon had half a mind to bite him, but knew that the consequences far outweighed the brief benefits. 

Instead, he stroked the length of Ramsay’s cock, parting his lips just enough to lick and kiss at the tip; he knew Ramsay wouldn’t let him get away with just getting this over quickly. With that in mind, he resolved to giving Ramsay the best damn blowjob of his life. This wasn’t the first time he’d gone down on a man--there had actually been quite the embarrassing good few--and he was pulling out all the tricks he’d picked up from Northerner’s and free folk alike. He was determined to have Ramsay screaming his name by the end of this. 

“This is what your mouth was meant for,” Ramsay said, watching Jon like a king might watch as his subjects worshipped him. “You have such perfect cock-sucking lips.” 

Jon pulled away just long enough to say, “Do you think about my mouth often?” the words bitten off and harsh. Ramsay stayed silent, but that was enough of an answer for Jon; this had been Ramsay’s plan all along. Jon had suspected as much. 

Ramsay was impatient, having no care for Jon’s idle teasing, even if it sent chills down his back and had moans threatening to spill past his lips. He jerked at Jon’s hair, and Jon scraped his teeth over his hot flesh in return, a warning. When Ramsay moaned, he did it again, taking more of his cock into his mouth, sucking lightly. Still teasing, as he would continue to do until Ramsay begged for more. It was petty and he knew it, wanting to make Ramsay beg as the man had made him beg, but still he did it anyway. 

The man held out longer than Jon would have expected. Long enough that his jaw was beginning to ache. 

“Dammit, you bastard, hurry up. I haven’t got all night.” Jon pulled off his cock with a soft, obscene, ‘pop’, grinning darkly as he looked up at the Warden, still slowly stroking him. Just enough to keep him on the edge, but not enough to give him any true pleasure. 

“Ask me nicely.” 

Ramsay’s eyes darkened, consumed by the black of his pupil and filled with lust, and he bared his teeth like one of his hounds. He was fond of his games, but he didn’t like it when someone tried to play one on him. Hooking his thumb between Jon’s teeth to keep his mouth open, he thrusted into Jon’s mouth, deep enough to make him gag, and held him there. He groaned at the feeling of Jon’s throat spasming as he worked past his gag reflex, breathing harshly through his nose. His eyes were burning as he looked up at Ramsay, face buried in his crotch. Oh, if his men could see him now, looking like some common whore. 

Jon hated the way Ramsay smelled. Like sweat and rain and  _ home _ . He had no right, having come and stolen Jon’s home while there had been no one to defend it. Even still, it was comforting in its familiarity on a subconscious level, and he didn’t fight as Ramsay jerked him back and forth, fucking his mouth until his throat ached and he was sure he would be hoarse for days.

But he didn’t surrender control for long, prying Ramsay’s hands from his hair and pinning them to the bed just as he was about to release. Jon held him easily, strengthened by years on the Wall, fighting wildlings and worse. Ramsay had the lean strength of an archer, it was nothing compared to that of a hardened warrior. 

Jon had been on his knees for over an hour by the time he finally allowed Ramsay to come in his mouth, screaming Jon’s name and almost shaking apart from pleasure all the while. Jon kept sucking at his cock until Ramsay was begging for him to stop, twitching with oversensitivity. Without swallowing, Jon stood and pushed Ramsay flat onto his back, pinning him down and kissing him deeply, until he was forced to swallow his own come with a disgusted moan. Jon was lightheaded when he finally pulled away, panting, starved for oxygen that he was suddenly getting too much of. Ramsay wasn’t too much better, eyes dazed. It would be so easy to kill him now, Jon thought, he wouldn’t see it coming, wouldn’t react soon enough to save himself. 

Instead, Jon got up, tucked Ramsay’s cock away and laced his breeches back up. Before leaving, he stopped, turning to say, 

“Three thousand men. You have a month.”

**Author's Note:**

> I managed to get exactly 2k and I am so fucking happy? It was difficult at 1995 to get EXACTLY 2000 and not fucking 1997 or 2001
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! I haven't really written a bj scene (and this barely counts) since I did Oral Fixation in like. October.


End file.
